A Single Touch
by ElusiveSoul
Summary: It started with a single touch - just a mere stroke of fingertips against her exposed skin. Seemingly innocent, it managed to awaken something she didn't think could ever exist, not between them. It did, though, and suddenly she couldn't think about anything else. A fire started to consume her, begging to be extinguished, even if it would complicate things. [Sirimione, AU]
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone! I have no idea what possessed me to write a Sirimione smutty oneshot, but... Well, it sort of happened. It's most definitely AU and there's no actual storyline. Just... tons of tension. **

**Depending on your reaction, I might consider writing a Sirimione fic, set in the AU. Let me know what you think! **

* * *

It started with a single touch – a mere stroke of fingertips against the tiniest fragment of her naked skin. Hermione knew that it didn't mean anything; after all, it really was an innocent gesture. She probably read too much into this entire situation, but… There was just something about the way his fingers lingered on her skin, making it hot and cold at the same time, sending shivers down her whole body.

A simple contact shouldn't have made her so wary of his presence – his scent, the sound of his voice, vibrating through the air, or even the impression his gaze left upon her. Whenever she caught him looking in her direction, she felt almost naked, like he could see _everything_. Somewhere along the way he became a man in her eyes, which was fairly stupid; he was, after all, much older and there never was a doubt that he had the aura of masculinity clinging to him like second skin.

She just never viewed him as someone, who could ignite a fire inside her body with just a mere stroke of his fingers. He was forbidden in a way. Well, in more than one, actually. The age difference was one thing, but the fact that he was also her friend's Godfather… It changed things and made them so complicated that she wanted to scream at herself for having such ridiculous thoughts.

No matter how hard she tried, though, she couldn't get rid of that feeling, consuming her from the inside. Whenever she looked at him, her focus shifted and suddenly she started to notice _other _things; she looked at his hair, which fell down to his shoulders in smooth waves, posing such a great contrast to the way it looked when she'd first met him. She followed the curves of his face – strong jaw, lips that were neither too thin, nor too plump, and those ridiculous cheek bones that made her think of the finest sculptures. Then, their eyes would finally meet, and he would smirk at her knowingly – almost as if he could read her nasty thoughts.

Seemingly, nothing had changed. They were still as distant as before, acting almost like strangers. No one noticed the slight tension in the air, whenever they sat next to each other during the Order's meetings. No one knew, how much she wished for him to touch her again, even in that meaningless gesture.

Meaningless it may have been, but they both knew that it wasn't innocent. Not anymore.

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, but her eyes remained open, despite the various techniques she used to finally drift away. The summer was hot, making the sheets cling to her body in a very unpleasant way and she couldn't exactly get rid of the need to go downstairs, in order to have a glass of cold water.

_It's useless anyway_, she thought and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The hour was late – or maybe early, depending on the perspective. She didn't expect to find anyone in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter. Grimmuald Place seemed awfully quiet and so peaceful that it made her inability to sleep even more annoying.

She made her way downstairs, only to find that the lights in the kitchen had been on. Suddenly she regretted not taking her dressing gown with her, as she wore only a flimsy top and matching bottoms; it was too hot for anything else. _Maybe it's just the light_, she thought and entered the room hesitantly. She was wrong.

The sight of Sirius Black had never been more agonising. Not only wasn't she ready to see him _at all_, but she also didn't expect to find him in such an… _undressed _state. The man wore nothing, but a grey pair of pyjama pants. His chest was bare, showcasing all of his prison tattoos that had stopped being just a reminder of his miserable past a long time ago; now they simply decorated his skin in the most intricate way, making her want to trace all of them with her fingers… or something else. Just like that, Hermione began to wonder if his skin was as smooth as she pictured it to be. It certainly looked healthy' she couldn't help, but to notice the way the light illuminated the sheer layer of sweat, making all the curves of his chest and stomach even more prominent. Merlin, she wasn't supposed to think about it.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked quietly, while Hermione cursed herself for staring at him so shamelessly.

Sirius didn't have to look at her to _know_; the smirk on his face only testified to that. He had no way of knowing that she would come here, but a part of her thought he probably did that on purpose, just to tease her.

"The heat is killing me," she answered, and when he looked at her – straight into her eyes – her mouth went completely dry.

"It's fucking unbearable, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded and lowered her gaze, deciding that she wouldn't let herself dissect his words and their true meaning. Instead, she walked up the counter and took out an empty glass from one of the cupboards. Her shirt road up, revealing her shorts and she blushed even though she couldn't see him; he probably watched her like a hawk, memorising each curve of her body and imagining those, which stayed hidden from his sight.

Granger downed a glass of water in a blink of an eye, cherishing the coolness of the liquid that helped her calm down a bit – not much, but she could at least think straight. Staying in the kitchen wasn't an option, as it suddenly became too little, too confined to fit both of them in at the same time. She knew that leaving was the best choice, but… she was scared to simply turn around.

Swallowing hard, Hermione forced herself to move. _Just leave the kitchen_, she told herself, but the intensity of his gaze locked her in place. It was like staring into the eyes of a predator – wild, untamed and… _hungry_. The fact that she had managed to evoke such feelings in him… It made her feel powerful and scared at the same time.

"I think I should… go," she muttered, her voice strained and weirdly raspy.

"Definitely," he agreed and tilted his head to the side. "Kitchen is not the place to do this."

Hermione's eyes widened at his blatant answer, but she decided to play dumb.

"Do what?"

"Each other, love."

His voice was so calm, so… confident that she almost melted at the spot. The aura of dominance surrounded him now more than ever, and suddenly breathing became difficult. Her fingers clenched on the counter, like the hard surface could provide a link to reality, preventing her from giving it to temptation – to that wild need to come closer and press her body against his.

What was she supposed to say? Was there even a correct answer to words spoken with such authority? She tried to gather her strength to simply let go of the wooden surface and leave the room, like nothing ever happened. But she couldn't leave without telling him how wrong it was to lust after each other. She needed to tell him that there could never be anything between them, even if it made her stomach clench painfully.

"We can't, Sirius. Not here, not anywhere," she managed to say, after another minute had passed.

To her surprise, he laughed darkly and his eyes gleamed with amusement.

"And what is the reason for such a… _dramatic _statement?" he asked, raising his eyebrows with curiosity.

"Everything?" she said and blinked. "You're_ you_ and I'm _me_. Harry treats you like a father. Mrs Weasley would _kill you_ if you… if we…"

"Oh… Only if we got caught." He shifted in the chair, raising arms above his head and crossing them at the nape of his neck. "And I'm very good at _not _getting caught, minus the Azkaban thing. I blame it on the shock anyway."

"You can't be…"

"…Sirius?" A chuckle escaped his lips, and it sounded absolutely ridiculous, considering the heavy tension in the air. "I'm afraid I can't be anyone else, either. Which is why you want me."

"I… I don't… I… It's not so simple," Hermione sighed and ruffled her hair.

"Of course it is. Let me just ask you… What would you do if I decided to bend you over the table and take you right here and now?"

Granger swallowed, when a sudden need to rub her thighs together washed over her body, but she didn't respond. The answer was fairly simple, he was right on that; she'd probably let him do whatever he damn pleased, as long as it would involve touching her and making her moan shamelessly.

"I wouldn't let you," she still said, grasping at the remaining pieces of sanity.

"Really? Want to test that theory?"

"No, Sirius. No matter how much we want this to happen, it can't. I cannot do this to Harry, to Ron… And yes, we would get caught eventually. It feels stupid to ruin a friendship, just because of lust," she said, unable to meet his gaze.

He chuckled again, but she couldn't force herself to ask him about this unexpected reaction. She'd known him well enough to predict his response; it would probably leave her even more desperate for his touch.

"I really should go," Hermione muttered and pushed herself off the counter, taking a wobbly step towards the exit.

Sirius did nothing to stop her, but he followed her movement carefully with a knowing smile on his lips – one she didn't like one bit. It foreshadowed troubles, lots of them. And she wasn't sure if she had the strength to fight them.

* * *

"Hermione?" Ginny's voice reached her ears, and she came back to reality.

She sat on the bed, listening to the redhead's words – or at least, she _was _listening a couple of minutes ago, before her thoughts drifted away. The girl felt guilty as hell, but she couldn't exactly help herself; no matter how hard she tried to keep her mind occupied, the memory of Sirius' hungry eyes resurfaced, making it almost impossible to even breathe properly.

She turned him down in a way, but it didn't mean the tension was gone. No… it only intensified to the point, where Hermione felt incredibly surprised that no one caught up to the game they were playing. Each stare was too intense to be considered casual, each touch lingered too long for it to be innocent. She may have had her doubts before, but now… All the cards were out in the open and ignoring them drove her mad.

"Sorry. Can you repeat?" Hermione asked and smiled apologetically, trying to focus again.

Ginny only raised her eyebrows and said:

"Which part?" Irony in her voice was obvious, forcing Granger to scowl with shame. "Mione, are you alright? You seem… distant lately."

What was she supposed to say? That she couldn't sleep, think or blink, cause every time she closed her eyes, Sirius' words started to ring in her head, while the sight of his grey – almost black – eyes seemed to burn holes in her very soul? It sounded wrong and right at the same time; lusting after someone was, after all, a fairly normal thing. But… When it came to him – a man, who was much older and forbidden due to different factors – everything became complicated.

"It's… nothing, really," she answered, but Ginny only scoffed.

"You're a terrible liar. Come on, it can't be that bad."

Maybe telling her would be a good thing? Weasley had never betrayed her trust before, even when Hermione kept rambling about her affection towards the girl's brother. She said nothing to him, or anyone else for that matter, but… Well, Sirius Black was a different case. Talking about the burning desire he'd awakened… It was intimate, sinful and Hermione feared that it would only make all those treacherous feelings even more real.

_Don't kid yourself_, Hermione thought and scowled, _It's not like you can ignore them anyway._ Because she truly couldn't, and the fact that Ginny had finally noticed her unusual behaviour only testified to that.

"It's… It's about Sirius," she admitted quietly, and her heart started to beat so fast that she worried it might actually break her ribs.

"What about him?" Ginny asked, her voice clearly surprised.

Hermione wanted to laugh humourlessly, seeing that even such an observant person as her friend didn't catch the tension between Harry's Godfather and Granger. It was almost as if she imagined all of this, beginning from that damned stroke of his fingers against her shoulders, ending on their talk in the kitchen. But no… If it was just a figment of imagination, she would be able to actually force herself to function. Maybe she'd even forget about those sinful needs, after a while.

"I kind of… I…" Hermione started and blushed furiously, which made Ginny's eyes go wide.

"Fuck me!" she squealed with excitement that earned her a glare from her friend. "You have a crush on Sirius?!"

Crush… Such a silly word – and completely misused in terms of what went on between them. Well, she _did _want to be crushed by his body, pressed hard against her own, but she doubted Ginny meant something in similar manner.

"I wouldn't put it that way," the girl muttered and ruffled her curly hair. "I just _want him_."

Silence enveloped the room, while Ginny tried to fully understand the situation, and Hermione tried not to look at the redhead. Maybe it was because of the shame that burned bright somewhere inside her mind, or maybe… Maybe she just feared her reaction. She couldn't force herself to face the girl, so she just sat at the bed, staring down at the floor.

"You mean… Like… You want him to…" Weasley stuttered, and Hermione's eyes closed.

"I want him to fuck me, yeah."

"Hermione!" Ginny squealed again, forcing Granger to blush.

She never used such language, but… What else was there to say? Her thoughts circled around that one word way too often to play innocent now, even if it sounded incredibly unusual and out of character, at least for someone like her – polite, well-behaved and always in control of her own emotions. But lately… Lately she was in control of _nothing_. Not her thoughts, not her reactions and _definitely _not her needs.

"I know how it sounds, alright?" she muttered with annoyance and opened her eyes. "You probably think it's crazy, and disgusting, and wrong, but…"

"I don't, actually," Ginny interrupted, surprising the girl greatly.

"You don't?"

"Of course not. Sirius is hot."

Hermione blinked in sheer confusion. It was stupid to think that no one noticed Black's charm, or the way he changed since the Azkaban breakout. In combination with that mischievous smile and raspy, deep voice, it was incredibly difficult _not to _notice it, in fact. And Ginny had never been the one to omit one's attractiveness, whether it came to other students, or younger professors. Hell, she had even once mentioned that Snape, out of all people, had something quite mesmerising about him. Hermione thought she was bonkers, but… Well, maybe she wasn't entirely wrong, after all. His fingers turned out to be _really _enticing.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise that Sirius Black caught her attention.

"And why would you think of it as something disgusting?" The redhead asked, frowning slightly.

"He's Harry's Godfather. He's also much older, and…"

"Oh, please," Ginny whined and rolled her eyes. "No one cares about the age difference. We're at war, Hermione, and even if we weren't, Wizards and Witches live longer than Muggles. In a world full of magic everything is possible, including meeting your soul-mate, who happens to be several years older."

"He's not my soul-mate, Gin," Hermione protested and shrugged. "I… I actually barely know him, now that I think of it."

"But you _want _to know him, huh?" The girl grinned. "Quite… _deeply_, I would say."

"Ginny!" she called instinctively, and then she realised that her words were actually quite true. "Shit."

Weasley laughed out loud and it made Hermione smile as well, even if on the inside she felt desperate and hopeless.

"When did it start, Herm?"

Granger sighed and lied down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"A month ago? Maybe two? I don't know, it's all been so crazy… I never even thought about him in such way. But then… Then he touched me." Ginny inhaled sharply and a bit too dramatically, which made Hermione roll her eyes. "No, not like _that_. You know those touches that are completely innocent, but at the same time…"

"…they're not. Yeah. They change everything." The redhead nodded and joined her at the bed.

"So… He touched me, and suddenly I started to notice him. The way his gaze lingered on me, the way his voice dropped, whenever he said my name. Everything became just so intense, so… unbearable."

"Holy shit," Ginny sighed and turned to face her. "No wonder you're acting like this. I would probably go crazy if he did that to me. And no, it wouldn't be because of Harry. It's just so easy to picture Sirius trying to seduce someone. I mean, this man basically smells like sin and sex."

Shiver ran up Hermione's spine, when she considered Ginny's words. Sin and sex, she thought, biting her lower lip. He truly did, she realised and her stomach clenched with very familiar tension. Before she could stop herself, she started to talk about everything that went on since that one, single touch. Ginny listened, the excitement growing in her eyes with each word, and when Hermione got to their talk in the kitchen, a blush crept up the girl's cheeks.

"You're so, so stupid!" Weasley whined, once silence had settled over them again. "Why would you tell him no?!"

"How could I not?! What would everyone say, Ginny? Aside from the age difference, he's Harry's Godfather. He's known me since my third year, since I was a child."

"Well, he didn't make a move on you then, did he?" the girl mocked in response and sighed. "Yeah, sure, Harry and Ron would probably lose it if they found out, and so would my mom, but… Do you really want to waste the opportunity because of other people?"

"It's not like he's the only man in the world."

"Isn't he? There's a reason why you can't stop thinking about him, Hermione, and… I don't think it's only a coincidence, a phase that will pass. You may not know him well, but you're no strangers. And if the attraction is there, it _must _run deeper than you think."

Granger bit her lip again, while she tried to dismiss Ginny's words. Lusting after him was difficult on its own, but if her friend was right and the pure physical attraction wasn't going to be the end of the sudden change in their relations' dynamics… She was in for a _lot _of trouble.

"I actually think you'd be good together," Weasley continued, oblivious to Hermione's musings. "He's wild, reckless… He's everything you're not, which can provide a perfect balance. Merlin knows we all need someone to help us forget."

"You're talking about a relationship," Hermione noticed with cautious, and Ginny snorted.

"Do you really think it's going to be a one-time thing?"

No. No, she didn't. If she ever decided to cave in to her desires, controlling them would become even more difficult and Sirius would probably do everything to fuel her lust.

"In my opinion, you should go for it, Hermione. Sometimes it's just best not to overcomplicate things. This could go bad, but… It can also turn out to be the best damn decision in your life. There's always a chance that he could be _it _for you. You can never be sure. But if he is and you miss it… Would you be able to live with that choice?"

Hermione really didn't know.

* * *

The stairs creaked, despite her attempt to be as quiet as possible; it was late, and she didn't feel like waking the whole house up. She'd lost track of time in the study and now her entire body rebelled against sitting in the same position for hours. Her neck hurt, her eyes stung and she felt positively exhausted.

Another yawn escaped her lips, and it quickly turned into a squeal that got muffled by someone's hand that clamped itself over her mouth. In one, swift movement, she was pushed backwards and her body came into contact with something hard and soft at the same time. A familiar scent invaded her nostrils, making her extremely awake, all of a sudden. _Sin and sex_, she thought with despair and fought the urge to moan into Sirius' hand.

She tried to wiggle her way out of his embrace, but his fingers dug into her hip with strength, causing slight pain, but also a weird sense of dominance that seemed alluring in a way.

"Hello, love," he whispered straight into her ear, sounding a bit amused by her attempts to break free. "It's a bit late to wander the house, don't you think? You never know what's lurking in the corners. Or _who_."

He took away his hand, allowing her to speak, but she felt at loss for words – especially when that same palm situated itself on her stomach, just an inch over the hem of the jeans. All that struggling caused Hermione's shirt to ride up, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush against her skin in the most sensual, delicate way, which drove her absolutely crazy.

"Let me go, Sirius," she hissed and wiggled again, only to freeze, when she felt his erection pressing against her lower back.

He chuckled at her reaction, allowing his hand to move towards the zipper of her trousers. He started to toy with the button, while Hermione struggled to breathe. What he did, was wrong in a way; she'd told him "no" before, even if she wanted nothing more than to just let him have his way with her.

Right now she felt positively outraged that he couldn't respect her choice – even if she still battled if it was a correct one. Hermione wanted to turn around and slap him, just so he would understand that she was _not _a toy, which was his to play. But then his hold on her disappeared and, with embarrassment, she realised that she didn't want to move.

"As you wish," he said quietly, but stayed rooted to his spot, his warm breath ghosting over Hermione's neck.

They weren't touching, but somehow her body still burned with need and overwhelming sense of longing. A shaky breath escaped her lips, when she tried to force herself to move, to walk away, like she was supposed to.

"Unless that's not what you wish at all," Sirius continued and nuzzled his nose against her neck.

Before she could stop herself, her head tilted to the side, allowing him to place several, soft kisses on the revealed skin. Even that light touch made her want to forget about all those stupid problems that existed in her mind.

"Sirius…" she breathed out, not knowing if she wanted him to stop, or continue, and judging by his agonised whine, he wasn't sure either.

"I want you, love. I want you so badly it hurts. I didn't plan on it, but… Plans rarely work out the way they're supposed to," he said, his hands moving to her hips once more. This time, when Sirius' fingers dug into her skin, she could feel the very same longing that haunted her dreams. "But how could anyone _not _want you? You've turned into such a stunning woman… Captivating, beyond smart, and so unaware of her own beauty."

Black's voice was low and dark, and it spoke to her vanity like nothing did before. Suddenly she knew that there was no escape from the sinful promise, hidden in every single syllable that left his lips. Hermione could get drunk on those words, letting his voice engulf her in a world, where nothing mattered – nothing, beside the most primal need to touch, to feel, to taste.

"Sirius…" she whispered again, when he lowered his head, pressing lips into her shoulder.

Something about that gesture seemed desperate and beyond sensual at the same time.

"Let me touch you, love. Please, I need to touch you."

"This is crazy," she whined, but did nothing to stop his hand from unbuttoning her jeans and slipping under the thick fabric.

It truly was. They stood in the corridor, right in front of Harry and Ron's room. Anyone could walk on them every second and even darkness wouldn't be able to hide the sexual tension, filling the air like heavy, suffocating smoke. She briefly remembered his words about kitchen not being the best place to do such things, but, at least, it had doors that could be closed.

Right now there was nothing that could prevent them from getting caught – and it still didn't matter. Not, when his fingers moved slowly downwards, brushing against her mound, only to find their way to the heat between her legs.

"Fuck, you're so wet already…" he rasped and gripped her hip harder, bringing her even closer to his chest.

Hermione said nothing; she only allowed her head to tilt back and rest against his shoulder, while her entire body shivered under his gentle, soft touch.

"Say it, love. Say that you want it," he whispered and grazed her earlobe with his teeth, before moving on to kissing her neck again.

Each wet mark he left upon her skin, seemed to have a cooling effect, but – at the same time – it made her ache inside, because she knew that, as pleasant as it was, she needed his lips elsewhere; everywhere, in fact.

"I…"

"Say it," he asked with more force, while one of his fingers slid underneath the thin fabric of her soaked panties.

Hermione let out a soft moan, before she clasped her own hand over her mouth. How on Earth was she supposed to keep quiet, when the man she wanted for such a long time, had his fingers sliding up and down her folds?

"I want it," she muttered, despite her thoughts.

To her surprise, his fingers were gone in a second, just like the warmth of his body. Hermione blinked in confusion, trying to calm her ragged breathing.

"Good, love. Now that you've admitted it out loud… I'm sure you're not going to have any trouble asking me for it, when we're in a… more suitable place," he said calmly, with a hint of satisfaction, and then he was gone, before she could protest.

He left her all alone, with unbuttoned jeans and unresolved tension coiling up in her stomach. It took her a minute to understand, why he would do such thing, but eventually she understood. Sirius Black wanted her – the evidence of that was clear and undeniable. He was no teenage boy, though; he controlled himself, even if it meant he had to endure yet another agonisingly lonely night.

Black wanted her, but he was smarter than to just take her, when she wasn't able to make a conscious decision – because she truly wasn't. As soon as she came down form the high, a blush of shame covered her cheeks, as she stared at the door leading to her friends' room. Guilt washed over her, when she realised that she was _this _close to let him fuck her in the middle of a corridor – and he would have done it, if it wasn't for his iron will.

Sirius wanted her to come to him not because of his vanity, but simply because he didn't want her to regret anything. He wanted to enjoy her over and over, despite the risk of getting discovered. But, above all else, he wanted Hermione to stand by her decision if they really did get caught.

He wanted a woman, who knew what she wanted, even if it was complicated and daring, and Hermione began to feel like she really craved to become exactly that.

* * *

Hermione sat in the living room, waiting for Mrs Weasley to serve them a meal. Almost everyone was there, apart from Sirius Black. She heard the sounds of running water, when she passed a bathroom next to the man's bedroom, so she was fairly sure he had no intentions of joining them for supper. She couldn't say that she minded his absence; she still couldn't find the courage to simply walk up to him and demand for him to take her. Avoiding him was easier, for the time being.

"Where's Sirius?" Mrs Weasley asked, frowning slightly. "Supper's almost ready! Can someone, please, fetch him?"

As usual, giggles erupted at the table, when the woman used the word "fetch". Black was sick of all the dog jokes, but everyone ignored him, as they were simply too fun. Hermione smiled as well, even though a part of her clenched painfully at the thought of being sent to find him. It took only a moment to imagine his body, slick and wet from the water, as he stood in the shower, leaning against the wall…

"Hermione can go!" Ginny stated, noticing the blush that crept up her cheeks.

The girl knew that Sirius occupied the bathroom; she walked down the stairs with Granger, after all. It was cruel, Hermione thought, and glanced towards Mrs Weasley, who smiled cheerfully.

"Splendid! Hermione, dear, he's probably with Buckbeak!"

The girl shot Ginny an angry stare, but smiled nonetheless and stood up. With a heavy heart, she left the room and began climbing the stairs. She hoped that Black had already finished his bath, so that she wouldn't have to knock at those damn door.

Hermione stopped in front of the bathroom and swallowed hard, when no sounds of running water reached her ears. She was far from relieved, though; someone was _definitely _inside. _Great_, she thought to herself and sighed shakily. Knowing him, this situation would become very bad in a record amount of time… Probably mere seconds after she'd find the strength to knock on the wooden surface.

Hesitantly, she raised her hand and tapped the door with her knuckles.

"Sirius? The supper's almost ready. Mrs Weasley wants you downstairs," she said loud enough for him to hear, but when the door opened, she realised that her phrasing may have been… a bit unfortunate.

"And you, love? Where do you want me?"

Hermione opened her mouth, taking in his entire silhouette – a very naked one. Her vision from just a couple of minutes earlier became almost true, as his skin still glistened from the water and he leaned against the frame with a mocking smirk. She couldn't help, but to follow each curve of his body with awe, completely mesmerised by the sight of his tensed muscles, moving with each breathe and tiniest change of position.

Merlin, he was so… He was so sinfully gorgeous. There was no other way to describe him. Hermione felt like an idiot, but she could only look at him hungrily, with fire burning in the pit of her stomach.

He took a step forward, not caring that anyone could see him; everyone was downstairs, after all. He probably expected her to move, but the girl stayed rooted to the spot. When he closed the distance between them, Hermione couldn't even find the strength to fight the urge to touch him. She raised her hands and placed them at his chest.

"I asked you a question," he chuckled with amusement, forcing her to meet his gaze.

His eyes were beautiful, and the way they seemed to hypnotise her, only made her decision easier. Suddenly, she couldn't do this anymore - resist something that was so strong, so inevitable…

"I want you inside me, Sirius," she admitted, feeling so idiotic and exhilarated at the same time. Her cheeks warmed up, but when he let out a low growl, suddenly the embarrassment was gone, replaced by pure arousal.

"Good answer," he purred, and before she could do anything, Sirius grabbed her ass, forcing her to wrap legs around his waist.

The door to the bathroom closed behind them with a loud thump, and soon she found herself sitting at the counter, ravished by his hungry lips. Hermione didn't think anyone had kissed her like that. Ron's kisses were pleasant, true, but they couldn't compare to Sirius' passion and expertise. It was like he knew what to do, to make her entire body shiver uncontrollably.

His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and she realised that not only did he smell like sin and sex, he tasted just the same. She could taste Firewhiskey and something that had to be exclusively _his_. Hermione briefly wondered if his skin would prove equally delicious, and she felt quite eager to test that theory.

Sirius broke the kiss, only to move to her neck, while his hands fumbled with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing. Finally he gave up, and reached for the wand that lied right next to her ass. Hermione squealed, when he vanished not only her shirt, but also the jeans, leaving her in the underwear. Suddenly Granger wished she would take Ginny's advice and invest in something _prettier_, but all of the insecurities disappeared, when Sirius took a step back and eyed her up and down.

"Fuck… You're so fucking stunning," he said and the tone of his voice sent another wave of heat, straight to her core.

Soon, he went back to kissing her, only this time he moved downwards, following the curve of her collarbone, to her sternum, flicking his tongue against the skin right between her breasts. A soft sigh escaped her lips, only to turn into a quiet moan, when his hand grazed one of the nipples through the thick fabric of the bra.

Suddenly, a weirdly lucid thought popped into her head and she glanced towards the door.

"Sirius… Silencing charm," Hermione whispered, but he only chuckled against her skin.

His fingers moved behind her back, unclasping the bra in one swift movement. To her surprise, he raised his head to look into her eyes, and then said:

"I couldn't care less if they're going to hear you scream."

And then he pushed the straps down the shoulders, exposing her breasts to the air. Her nipples were already hard, but when he brushed his thumbs against them, they became even more pronounced against her pale skin. When she stifled a moan, he sighed and cast the spell quickly, before getting back to her.

The feeling of his tongue, flicking against the peak of her breast, was not something she could describe. Hermione never thought that someone could turn her into a huge bundle of nerves, reacting to every touch, even the softest one. She didn't even think that her nipples alone could be this sensitive; but each stroke of his tongue, each pinch of his fingers seemed to send waves of electricity straight to her core, making her ache for him even more.

"I want to taste you, love," he stated and moved downwards, placing kisses on her stomach, while his fingers slid underneath the sides of her panties.

Merlin, he could force her to beg using only his voice – that sultry, raspy tone that resonated against her skin, evoking feelings so strong that she wanted to scream, both in agony and in pleasure. It should be forbidden to sound like that, to turn someone else's brain into a mush filled with nothing, but dirty, sinful thoughts.

But, fuck, how she wanted to feel his lips on her dripping core… How she wanted to feel his tongue, sliding down her wet folds…

"Please," she whimpered, when he started to take off her underwear, caressing her legs slowly, as if he wanted to kill her with tension.

"Please what?" he asked and looked deep into her eyes.

"Don't fucking tease me," she answered with force she didn't know was even there; but everything seemed different now.

Her shyness was gone, replaced by a desperate need to have him. It turned her into a fully-fledged woman, aware of her desires, aware of the power she possessed. Sirius had to notice that sudden change too, because his gaze became even darker, even hungrier. Before she could stop him, he pulled at her panties, ripping them into pieces.

"As you wish, love," he muttered and moved downwards, situating himself between her thighs.

This time she couldn't stop a loud, shaky moan and it vibrated through the air. She grasped the edge of the counter with her hand, steadying herself in response to the kiss he placed on her mound, only to move even lower – straight to the centre of her arousal. His tongue flicked against her clit, circling it in agonisingly slow movements, making her writhe on the cold surface that was now slick with sweat.

"Fuck me…" she moaned, when he sucked gently on the most sensitive spot and her legs trembled.

Sirius laughed, stopping for a moment, only to look at her with dark amusement.

"I'm seriously trying."

But she couldn't appreciate his joke. Not, when his finger slid into her, curling slightly and making her eyes roll back.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered again, watching her for a moment, while he kept moving his finger in and out at a steady pace – far too slow for her liking. "Fuck, I can't…"

His tongue was back and the rest of her consciousness disappeared, burying her in a wave of pleasure. Suddenly everything became a haze of sounds, sensations and cries that could have belonged to her, or maybe to him. She didn't know. Nothing matter. Nothing, except for the ecstasy ruling over her overheated body and mind.

All it would take, was one stroke, one flick of his tongue, and she would fall over the edge without any care for the world. But he stilled, and the reason for such action was unbeknownst to her. Hermione forced herself to look at him, only to find that he stood up, stroking his own throbbing arousal.

"Why… Why did you stop?" she whined and watched as a dark smile appeared on his lips that were still glistening from her wetness.

"Because the first time you come… I want it to be around my cock."

If he wasn't standing between her legs, she would have rubbed her thighs together. In combination with his dirty words, just that tiny friction could have given her the much-needed release. But the only thing she could do, was to wrap her legs around his waist and raise her own hand to touch the man in front of her.

She stroked him a few times, marvelling at the softness of his skin, which posed such a strong contrast to its hardness. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to feel that same softness sliding against her walls, so she looked at him with pleading in her eyes and he closed his own with something that resembled agony.

"You have no idea, how long I wanted to do this… To bury myself deep inside of you…"

"What are you waiting for, then?" she moaned and wriggled, trying to get closer to his throbbing erection.

"I need to know that you're sure, love. I need to know that you're not going to pretend that it never happened."

"Sirius… It's not like you would ever let me forget," she smiled and he opened his eyes. "It's not like I would ever be able to."

With one, swift movement, he slid inside of her, and Hermione tilted her head back. Smile never left her lips; she felt so wonderfully full, so… completed. When he stilled, moaning in pleasure, she decided that Ginny was right – there was no way she could ever stop wanting him. Her eyes drank in the sight right in front of her, as feeling of awe and weird tenderness exploded in her mind. The way his skin glistened, the way his eyes seemed to be consumed by the same fire that coursed through her veins since he'd decided to touch her for the first time… She had never seen anything more striking. And she doubted she would ever have enough of it.

When he began to move, all of her thoughts disappeared, replaced by only one thing – ecstasy. At first his pace was steady, slow, and Hermione felt the need to move her hips in the same rhythm. She needed _more_, _faster_, and he sensed that in the desperate moans that left her lips. He sped up and his thumb returned to the sensitive nub right above her entrance. Before she realised it, she began running towards that edge again, and his words pushed her even more.

"That's right, love. Come for me. I want to feel you come."

And she did just that. With a loud moan – or maybe a scream, she couldn't really tell – she fell into the bliss, where there was no tension, no pent up arousal, no _nothing_. Just pure ecstasy and the sounds of his own ragged breathing, when he neared that same edge.

A minute later, he pulled out and rested his forehead on her stomach. When he looked into her eyes again, a huge grin spread on his lips – one that she couldn't help but to reciprocate.

"As much as I thought about ravishing you thoroughly, I never expected it to happen in a bathroom," he stated and Hermione giggled, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"Yeah, well… Wish I could say the same," she answered, much to his surprise.

Before he could answer, a knock sounded in the room and Mrs Weasley's voice reached them from the corridor.

"Sirius? The supper is ready. Hermione was supposed to fetch you."

Black raised his eyebrows and pinched the girl's thigh slightly. He reversed the Silencing charm and said:

"Thanks, Molly, but I already ate."

Hermione blushed a furious red, but said nothing – she couldn't If she didn't want Mrs Weasley to hear her.

"Really? Haven't seen you in the kitchen," the woman answered and then sighed. "Never mind, I cannot force you to eat. Have you spoken to Hermione?"

"Yeah, she came here earlier," Sirius said and his grin got even bigger, seeing that Granger bit her lip, clearly embarrassed by his choice of words. "Have no idea where she went."

"Well… I better go look for her."

With that, the woman was gone and Black laughed out loud.

"You should probably go as well. Molly sounds about ready to throw a search party for you," he chuckled, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

She slipped off the counter and looked around, trying to find her clothes.

"You ripped my panties!" she stated with outrage and he shrugged.

"You look better without them anyway."

"Oh, so I should go downstairs, wearing absolutely nothing?"

"No, love. Just not your panties," he answered, and then grabbed the torn fabric from the floor. "I suppose I could fix them, but… I think it will take me some time. How do you feel about collecting them from my bedroom later?"

"Seriously?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

The tone of his voice and the sudden warmth in his usually cool eyes made her feel as though he meant something much deeper than it would seem.

"I'll be there," she said, feeling weirdly calm.

It was like something just clicked, falling right into its place. And she knew he felt that too.


	2. Info

Hey guys. Just wanted to let you know that I've decided to write that Sirimione AU ff after all. If you want to read it... Check out "The Wrong Tree" on my profile :)

Thank you for your lovely reviews and love! It means the world to me!

xoxo

Elusive


End file.
